Imagine the dawn of a summer’s day in Tuscany. The sky is plum and gold, heralding another long, lazy day. In the distance rise the gentle contours of a hill topped by an ancient orchard. The sun rises and everything is bathed in a shimmering light. As you sleep on cool linen sheets your senses stir with the dawn: the intoxicating scent fruit of ripe fruit is everywhere. As Paul Eluard said in his poem: “And now the sun is set free”.